


Three Men and a Coffee Table

by FaunaFauna



Category: Osamu Tezuka Star System
Genre: Fairy Godmobsters, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Theraputic Robbery, my mobster could beat up your mobster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8385274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaunaFauna/pseuds/FaunaFauna
Summary: When Hamegg and Lamp have a falling out, Hamegg tries to let things cool off while hiding at Skunk's place. Unfortunately, Skunk's guys are in the middle of planning a small heist. Skunk and his men attempt to make things work for everybody. (Character exploration and goofing around abound.)





	1. Chapter 1

“So we all agree on the light heist?”

An approving cacophony of grunts echoed through the little storage facility. Skunk Kusai, seated on one of two dusty old vinyl couches, grinned in favour. He pushed aside two maps on the stout coffee table before him to get a look at the blueprints of an art gallery.

“Excellent, guys,” he drawled. “Maybe something small will be just enough for us.”

“Yeah, I'm kinda getting wiped out with the bank robberies.” Ox sat across from him, legs crossed comfortably. “I want the funds, but I'm sick of driving all over the country.”

“Well, this exhibit's going to do the trick, and we don't need to worry 'bout more than the security cameras.” Skunk pulled a red marker from his jacket pocket. “They're all in these corners.”

Skunk made red marker dots in various corners of the gallery halls. He sat back, declaring, “We can just blow the breaker on the street, and it'll give us about 15 minutes before the power company wises up.”

“Gotcha,” Vito nodded.

“So we'll enter through here...” Skunk dragged the red marker down a corridor on the map. “...Then, someone will take the side doors, while I--”

 _Thud_.

Gorisuke was the first one to stand up, his tall, bulky body shielding the others at the table. Vito reached for the pistol in his own jacket. Skunk remained still, his eyes searching the room for hints of the sound.

 _Thud_ again. Everybody stood up on cue.

“It's coming from the back door,” Harry hissed.

The group, individually armed, moved in a swarm towards the back of the facility. The unspoken command at that moment was to find the noise and shut it up, however necessary.

Sure enough, the thuds were coming from the old steel back door, at the end of a short hallway. It was a sound not unlike someone trying to batter it down, and only some _one_ ; the person on the other end was far too quiet to be a full police raid. Skunk looked at Ox, nodded at him, and the two strode forward to either side of the doorway. Harry stepped into the hallway corner for a sneak attack, Gorisuke took the centre of the hall, and Vito and Moguno lined the walls. One more _thud_ rattled through the hallway. Ox tore the door open and everyone flung their guns and knife tips forward.

A thoroughly horrified Hamegg stood in the doorway, just barely lit by the streetlights behind him. He looked like he had gotten dressed in a hurry; an old tweed jacket clung to a creased dress shirt and slacks. He held a thick suitcase in his arms, yanked back in preparation to hit the door again. He stared in, wild-eyed and sheepish, trying to get a headcount on the gang.

Skunk groaned upon recognition and lowered his gun. His men disarmed in response.

“W-well, uh...” Hamegg sputtered through nervous laughs. “Maybe I shoulda called in advance!”

“Maybe you fuckin' should've--!” Skunk hissed, yanking Hamegg through the doorway. He let the skinnier man hit the floor while he kicked Hamegg's suitcases into the room. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Skunk slammed the door shut, glaring down at Hamegg. Vito and Moguno awkwardly shifted out of the way of the shambling sweaty man. Hamegg sat in a sweaty shamble on the ground.

Harry stepped forward with a hand held out as he asked, “Do you need--”

“Let him stand up on his own!” Skunk howled. Harry slid back to the wall.

Amidst body tremors, Hamegg climbed back into a standing position and dusted off his olive green jacket. He looked up at Skunk and began to ask, “Can I stay with you for a few days?”

Skunk dryly asked, “What, did Lamp's place burn down?”

“It might as well've,” Hamegg laughed uncomfortably. Skunk, disgusted, begun gesturing for the group to go back into the main hall. Moguno wordlessly grabbed Hamegg's suitcases. Hamegg tried to make eye contact with Skunk, but the larger man was walking too fast.

“How'd you know I was here?” Skunk asked tensely. Hamegg felt a new round of sweat break out.

“I...well, I came into town and started bumming around this bar...”

“ _Which bar?!_ ”

“Easy, easy!” Hamegg grinned, holding up his hands defensively. “That little shitty one on the edge of town, the Dusty Rose Pub! I went in to drink myself into a coma, but I saw your guy Gato there, and we got talking.”

Skunk's stomach settled upon recognizing the name of one of his more trusted men. He nodded stiffly, asking, “He didn't yell it out, did he?”

“N-Nah...” Hamegg sighed. He reached the couches and let himself collapse into a seat. “He made it real cryptic. I probably sounded real pissy out there, huh? I found three other places with burnt-out streetlights but _not_ the yellow fire hydrant to the left of the back door.”

The tension lifted off of Skunk's gang almost immediately. Skunk had known Hamegg since they were in their late teens, and the rest of Skunk's gang knew him as an ally and resource. The men in Skunk's hideout that night had all met or seen Hamegg before, and they had managed to relax; it seemed like Hamegg had managed to get to their place without too much of a mess.

Skunk sat down on the couch opposite Hamegg and snapped his fingers once. He yelled out, “Harry, get some drinks.”

The younger man stood to attention. “Y-Yes sir! Any particular kind?”

“Surprise me.”

Harry ran off to the cooler in the garage, with Moguno tailing behind in hopes of escaping the awkward mood. Skunk started lighting a cigarette. The room was silent, awkwardly so, and it begun to make Skunk angry again.

“God dammit, don't just stand around!” he hollered at the other men. “Sit down. Watch TV. Stop lookin' like you just saw a murder!”

“I feel like I'm 'bout to,” Ox muttered as the group dissipated. The heist plan would have to wait until tomorrow.

Hamegg, the whole time, looked like someone had scraped him off their windshield. He exhaled in one long shaky breath. Skunk took notice and wordlessly held out his cigarette box, offering.

“N-Nah, buddy, I've g-g-got my own, aheh...” he tried to keep himself together. “So, uh...can I hang around f-for a day or two...?”

“Depends on what you did, _Hammond_.”

“Uh...” Hamegg wiped the palms of his hands on his slacks. “I...kinda pissed Lamp off.”

Skunk hissed out white smoke. “Uh-huh.”

“But, uh, more than usual.”

“ _Huh_.”

“I, uh...don't wanna describe it.”

“You _tell_ me or you pay rent while you're here.”

“Ah...”

Harry came back to the table with a large bottle of whiskey, and Moguno's arms were full of tumbler glasses. They carefully set these out on the table between the two men; Harry quickly filled one glass and put it in Skunk's expectant hand. The boss then chugged it approvingly.

“Here, sir,” Harry whispered, handing Hamegg an equal glass. “You might wanna do what he says.”

Hamegg nodded, and cleared his throat. He looked down at the glass; it was a godawfully large portion of whiskey. The kid had poured it like he had done for Skunk's glass, straight with no ice, and almost to the brim. Hamegg attempted to sip it with class.

“I...” He fought off an alcohol-induced shiver. “I guess I...I...swung by Lamp's apartment this morning.”

Skunk sat back, bracing himself. “Go on...”

“And...I heard some funny noises, and I put down the groceries I had, and...” Hamegg paused for a long moment, biting his lip. “He...he had someone else over. A woman.”

“He...” Skunk paused to try and let the words add up in his head, and then continued, “...That's it?”

“Y-Yeah...” Hamegg looked away, enigmatically. “I started yelling at him while he got her out, but it was no--”

“Except you told me that you an' Lamp had an understanding,” Skunk interrupted. “When you and I were at Keistro's, you drank three tequilas and kept braggin' about how you two – lemme do your voice, here – _have both got needs!_ So you two kept tucking into other people--”

Hamegg whined, “Oh, Skunk, don't...”

“I know you're fuckin' lying, buddy.” Skunk took another whiskey swig. “I've known you for decades. What'd he really do, steal from you? Dent your Beemer?”

“ _He was fucking a robot, all right?!_ ” Hamegg shrieked, standing up and hurling his tumbler onto the ground. “He wanted some toaster oven piece-of-ass _over me!_ ”

Skunk sat back, awkward; even the other men in the room had turned around to gape. Hamegg could sense all the extra eyes on him, and crumpled, falling down into his seat. He tried to ignore the mess of glass shards.

He murmured, “I'll pay ya for the glass.”

“L...Lamp's always been into that, Ham,” Skunk said tensely.

“He what?!”

“He told me about it, once.” Skunk adjusted his collar, becoming disgusted. “Neither of you know how to keep your randy shit quiet. He “joked” about doin' a robot if it acted like a human woman, but I could tell he wasn't joking...”

“No, _no_!” Hamegg looked like he was going to cry. “He _hates_ robots! Maybe he didn't know she was a robot! He and I rant all the time about the damn things!”

Harry looked up from the card table, uneasily adding, “S...sometimes people internalize fetishes for groups they're been predisposed to hate, Mr. Egg.”

“Harry! Can it!” Skunk hissed. “You're just gonna string him out!”

“Ohh--!” Hamegg finally collapsed into his hands, wailing. “Why didn't he just tell me?!”

Hamegg wept, letting hours of anger and betrayal fall forth from him. He had been through all sorts of criminal stunts, escapades, and awkward situations in his life, but this was a humiliation that he just couldn't process. Skunk wasn't good with criers. He locked up, uncomfortable, eyes searching the room for something to focus on until Hamegg was calmer.

Harry ran over to the couches and gently put a hand on Hamegg's shoulder, saying, “I'm really sorry, sir.”

“I threw a champagne bottle through his coffee table--!” Hamegg choked. “I bought it for us to share tonight...!”

“He can probably get that fixed,” Skunk lied. “That's about it, right?”

“I...I said I...hoped he got his foreskin caught in her gears...”

“Ham. Ham.” Skunk sat forward, hands out. “Did he _know_ you were coming? Like, did you just barge into his place?”

“I...I wanted to surprise him!”

Skunk felt his eyelid twitch. “So you blasted through the guy's door, invaded his privacy, and then broke his goddamn table?”

“Would you have done any better, Skunk?!”

Skunk looked over at a shrugging Harry. It was a far reach from Skunk's situation. But, it definitely wasn't below him to smash a table for a laugh and a half. Skunk sighed, sitting back again.

“Fine, fine. You can hide out here. But if Lamp comes by, I'm not turning him away.”

Hamegg sat up in a panic. He yelped, “Skunk, you can't!”

“I don't like pickin' sides in shit like this! You're both my friends!” Skunk groaned. “Like, god, you can stay here, but I'm not getting on Lamp's bad side. You know what he can do if he's pissed.”

“That's what I'm worried about,” Hamegg said softly, now shaking. Harry did the best thing he could think of and set a hand on Hamegg's shoulder again.

“And you know what I can do if _I'm_ pissed,” Skunk drawled. His eyes were locked with Hamegg's. It was an instant understanding; this was Skunk's own stunted way of promising Hamegg total protection. The lanky, sweaty man nodded, a small smile finally coming back to his face. Skunk was both the best and worst friend he could ask for in that situation.

“...Where should we set him up, boss?” Harry asked. He stood up straight, ready to take another order; the rest of the gang in attendance was either working elsewhere or had simply fucked right out of the building.

“Roll out a futon in your room, kid.”

Harry's eyes widened. “Boss! No!”

“You're all grabby with his shoulder, so you give him your floor.”

“I'm just comforting him, boss!” Harry complained. “My room's too small!”

“You tell me it's “cozy” whenever I'm in there.”

Harry, with his face now bright pink, retreated angrily towards the supply closet. He glowered, “One futon coming up.”

“Sheesh,” Hamegg laughed quietly, “Looks like it's Doghouse Central out here!”

“Mind your own business or you're back outside.”

“G-Got ya.”


	2. Chapter 2

The mid-morning sun cast a yellow glare along Harry's far wall. It was such a warm, bright swath of sunlight that lovingly illuminated the stout bookshelves and Harry's tin Volkswagen Beetle model. It was a catalogue-esque aesthetic, but aesthetes didn't matter when one had a hangover.

Hamegg groaned and screwed his eyes shut; the light bouncing off the off-white wall seemed to bore straight through his eyelids. He set a hand over his eyes and looked around the little room through the slits between his fingers. The kid's room must've been a little office room long ago, with just enough new furnishings to make it look like a young man's room. But now, it was close to cramped with the addition of three suitcases and a futon. The futon was garnished with a blue and yellow rocket ship comforter, the only spare blanket Skunk had. It wasn't the worst place he'd woken up in, but certainly one of the most awkward.

With a grunt, he slid out of the futon and checked his clothes. Socks, briefs, and the dress shirt all from last night. He smelled palpably of sweat. Hamegg checked the room, finding himself the only person in, and hurriedly set about unbuckling one of his suitcases. Maybe he'd treat himself to the white and black leisure suit that day.

He was halfway into shoving himself into white slacks when Harry opened the door. The younger man quickly slammed it shut. Hamegg laughed and zipped his slacks up loudly, calling out, “You can come in! Nothing's hanging out!”

“Ah, well...” Harry slid the door open again. “It's 11:45. The boss is still asleep, but some of the guys and I are gonna go out for breakfast. You wanna come with?”

“Maybe,” Hamegg said as he loaded a cigarette into his mouth. “I'm kinda thinkin' about just kicking back for the day...”

Harry flew into a panic as soon as he saw Hamegg's lighter emerge from his shirt pocket. The younger man shrieked, “Stop! No smoking in here! You'll ruin my stuff!”

Hamegg glared at him, but pocketed the lighter. “You already work with a guy who smokes.”

“Yeah, but he doesn't do it in here!” Harry yelped, hands clenched.

“He doesn't?” Hamegg asked.

“Yeah! S-So don't! Please!”

“I wouldn't expect Skunk to be so decent,” Hamegg thought aloud. He returned the cigarette to his pocket.

“Y-Yeah...” Harry's arms fell limply at his sides. “It's, uh, a long story.”

“Is it one I can hear?”

“N-N-No!” Harry sputtered. He crooked the door open a bit to get more air in the room. He continued, “I...I just don't want anybody to treat me different from the rest of the gang. Just pretend I'm another one of the guys.”

Hamegg put his hands on his hips, feigning fatherly concern. “He doesn't even treat you? Jesus, what a pain!”

“M-Mr. Egg, I'd rather not talk about this...”

“Ah...” Hamegg nodded back. “Gotcha. I'll stay out. This kinda thing's new to me. See, Lamp and I are, heh, the worst kept secret in the crime world...”

 _Lamp_.

Hamegg froze as soon as he realized he'd said _that_ name. Last night's schmoozing and the rocket ship futon had almost made him forget the events of the morning prior. A slow, thick sadness oozed into Hamegg as the memories all came back. Harry was visibly worried as he watched Hamegg quietly crumble, and the young man stepped closer, eyeing him.

“Mr. Egg...?”

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” Hamegg sputtered as he waved Harry off. He hurried through the doorway and headed towards to the stairway, hoping he could calm down in the main hall. He wrung his hands habitually, trying to ignore how sweaty they had become.

 _What's Lamp doing right now?_ The question hit him, and he immediately regretted it. Two possibilities formed in his mind: Lamp could be out living it up, seething, waiting for Hamegg to slither back home begging for forgiveness. The knot twisted further in his stomach when he imagined this Lamp sitting in a robot-staffed host club, pooched out of his mind on top-notch booze he'd bought with one of his executive credit cards. But, if this _wasn't_ the case, then Lamp was probably out in the streets, bundled up for the wind and looking for hi--

Hamegg shuddered a breath, forcing himself to stop thinking about it. Tears were starting to bite at his eyes. Furious, Hamegg wiped his eyes on his jacket sleeve. He couldn't think of anything else.

He forced himself to duck into a darkened hallway. He didn't care where he was going, so long as he was out of the light of the main hall. Hamegg found an acceptable corner and sunk against the wall, as the tears begun to flow again.

Through a sob, he hissed, “Walking catastrophe”, huh?”

 

***

 

“What did you just call me?!”

Hamegg was poised, fists clenched, before an infuriated Lamp. The larger man was wild-eyed, his glasses oily from fingerprints when he'd grabbed them in a hurry. Lipstick kisses were speckled across his shoulders, the lip marks too consistent in shape. They were mechanically precise, and Hamegg shot a glare at the blonde robot woman behind Lamp. She was curled up in horror on the floor, a sheet wrapped around her body, and it made Hamegg furious; it wasn't as if she had anything to actually hide. The whole moment had lasted two seconds, but in Hamegg's mind later on, it felt so detailed, like a lenticular picture that moved depending how he stared at it.

“I said,” Lamp roared, “You're a walking catastrophe!”

“Oh, am I?!”

“Yes! You couldn't even goddamned knock?! And you're dressed like you crawled out of a laundry hamper!”

“I don't have to take this from a man with his dick out!”

“You're the one who caught me like this!”

“Oh I'm sooo sooorry!” Hamegg screamed in a sing-song voice. “Didn't know you were balls deep in someone's waffle maker!”

The robot woman stood up and began searching for her clothes. She almost seemed to look humiliated, and Hamegg took an absurd delight in this.

“Where's my dress, Mr. Lamp?” she quickly asked, not making eye contact with either of the men.

Lamp was hurt by her tone, and sighed, “Helene...”

“This silicone chunk has a name?!” Hamegg angrily yelped. It was a name so close to his own, too. Lamp whirled back around to face him, the anger returning to his square face.

“God, Ham! She's an agency escort!” Lamp pointed aggressively at himself. “If we upset her, the agency'll blacklist me!”

“Oh, is that so?!”

“ _Yes!_ ”

“Then what am I waiting for?!” Hamegg yelled over his shoulder as he ran out of the living room.

Lamp felt a chill run up his spine. Tense, he asked, “Ham, what the fuck are y--”

Hamegg bolted back into the room, holding a champagne bottle by the neck over his head. Lamp threw foward his arms in preparation to hold back an attack, but it never came; he watched Hamegg run straight past him and towards the plate glass coffee table.

 

***

 

It was such a glorious, satisfying _fuck you_ at the time, but now, Hamegg just felt humiliated. Lamp's name was probably on an escort service watch list by now. Lamp's fury over that was bound to end maybe...around...the next decade. Hamegg exhaled with a shuddery sob.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his ID case; it was time to go off the radar so one of Lamp's associates wouldn't catch him if he went to the store. Each pocket in the case had a photo ID and its corresponding payment cards. The “Henri Masefield” card had been pulled to the front, and Hamegg made a mental note to shred it later.

He flipped through the cards. The little click they made as they knocked together in the case was normally such a satisfying sound, but this time, it just wasn't working.

“Hey!”

The sudden voice up the hall made Hamegg jolt hard against the wall. He shoved the ID case in his pocket and threw his arms over his head. The hallway light clicked on, and Hamegg met eyes with a deeply confused Ox.

“Oh, sorry, man.” Ox shrugged. “We're gonna head out for grub at this little diner on the edge of town. Skunk knows the owner, so we're safe out there. You coming?”

Hamegg let his arms fall limply to his sides. He chuckled, “Y-Yeah, sure, I'm g-glad to! Just one question...”

Hamegg fished the ID case out of his jacket once again and ruffled through it while Ox patiently watched. The slimmer man produced two driver's licenses, and asked, “I need a second opinion. Should I be Levi Goldstein or Lino Vannetti today? Whaddya think? Latkes or spaghetti?”

“Uh...” Ox narrowed his eyes, looking between the two cards. He groaned, “Do I _have_ to do this?”

“Vannetti it is!” Hamegg declared, putting it in the front of his case. He proudly walked back to the main hall, wiping the remaining tears on his cheeks on the back of his sleeve as if they didn't mean a thing. Ox hurried to match Ham's speed, and began actually walking in the direction of the garage. Hamegg didn't drop a gram of his smooth act as he turned on his heel.

Hamegg and Ox entered the garage together, where Harry, Vito, and Gorisuke were waiting in a bright red aerocar. Vito leaned over the front seat and slammed a hand on the horn, making Harry dramatically wince.

“Andiamo, andiamo!” Vito yelled out. “They stop serving waffles in an hour!”

“All right, shit!” Ox hissed. He shoved himself into the passenger's seat while Hamegg climbed between the men in the back seat. He felt ganglier and sweatier than usual.

Harry started the car, and soon they were moving through the wide rusty garage door. The younger man called out, “I'm not stopping this car for anything 'til we get there, okay?”

“What if one of us has to piss?”

“Vito, oh my _God_ , you're 45.”

Hamegg let himself blend into the scenery. He was just too quiet and orderly among the rest of the men in the car. Feeling a craving come on, he fetched a cigarette from his blazer pocket; it was the same one from before when Harry had yelled at him, complete with a notch in the filter from when he'd bit down. He sighed and returned it to his mouth.

He went about lighting it, but when he went to put his lighter away, his thumb brushed about something rough on the lighter. Hamegg quickly brought the little silver square back up to his face. He breathed out white smoke, and as it dissipated, he could see the monogrammed “A.L.” on the side of the lighter.

“Dammit,” Hamegg cursed under his breath. “How much of me is him...?”

 

***

 

“I...I see.”

Acetylene Lamp was sitting back in a leather recliner, a house robe over his suit, the home phone in one hand and a cigar in the other. He could see off into Metro City's smaller metropolitan area from the nearest window. On any other day, he would've felt like a god, but that morning, he just wanted to sleep for a hundred years.

He sighed in exasperation, letting go of a mouthful of cigar smoke. He asked pleadingly, “Is there any way I could talk to Helene one more time, at least?”

“No, I'm sorry, sir,” the A.I. Ai Agency operator replied. “We reserve the right to protect our employees' privacy, especially regarding individuals on our warning list.”

“How do I go about waiving that...?”

“You can apply for a safety audit in...er, let me see...December.”

“In _eight_ _months_.”

“Indeed, sir.”

“Well...I appreciate your assistance.” Lamp tried to keep from gritting his teeth. “I'll..I'll try and make contact in December.”

“Excellent, sir. Have a good day.”

Lamp glared out the window. He clicked the phone off and let it fall from his hand onto the carpet, dropping it like it was something rotten. He tried to calm down by chewing on the end of his cigar. Lamp cursed to himself, _Fucking hypersensitive robots._

He had been stewing in his ire for almost twenty-four hours. Having to order a new table and call in a carpet cleaner was enough to put him in a bad mood, but being barred from his favourite escort service _and_ having Hamegg sulking somewhere...Lamp bitterly took a drag off his cigar as if he was trying to suck the life out of it.

Hamegg, though. Where had he gone? Lamp was so used to arguing with Ham, parting ways, and then having him turn up begging for forgiveness within three hours or less. This had to be a new record. If Lamp was in a better mood, he would've counted all the hours for later reference.

Lamp got up and strolled over to his radio. He clicked it on, switching over to one of the jazz stations. It was an attempt to make him feel less uneasy, but as a saxophone wailed out triumphantly, Lamp was hit with a memory.

“ _C'mon, dance with me,” Ham had called out as he posed for a formal dance. They had been in one of their other safehouses, money piled up on the floor, and a jazz album playing on the vidcom across the room. Lamp looked up from bill counting and laughed._

“ _Ham, that's a goddamn tango,” he complained – but he gazed at him fondly. “That's not how you dance to jazz!”_

“ _Oh, no,” Hamegg moaned dramatically. “If only someone could show me how to dance...?”_

_Lamp finished a bill stack and put it aside, his face smug as he walked right up to Hamegg. The smaller man was grinning widely as his partner took one hand and one hip, pulling him into a slow and careful sweep._

“ _I'm pretty sure this is a waltz,_ _Ace_ _,” Hamegg purred._

_Lamp gave Hamegg's hip an affectionate squeeze as they twirled. He whispered into his ear, “Oh, then should we stop?”_

“ _Nah, nah...” Hamegg said in a sing-song tone. “Who knows? Maybe we'll get in the...right position.”_

_Heat rushing to his face,_ _Lamp_ _smugly_ _leaned down to give his partner a kiss on the ear._

Lamp realized he had zoned out. He hurriedly turned the radio off and rushed off to find an ashtray. Hamegg was sure to turn up again at some point; they'd been through this charade more than enough times before, and he almost always came back on his own.

 _Almost_. Lamp had to go out and pick Hamegg up on a few occasions, after getting a teary phone call from a payphone. He suddenly realized the abundance of times he had been the one to storm out on Hamegg, and he sunk back into his recliner, worried.

 _No wonder people warn you not to date your colleagues,_ Lamp scolded himself.

 

***

 

Hamegg sat quietly in the corner of the diner booth, tending to a short stack of pancakes. They were drowning in syrup and had gotten soggy, but it was just the way he liked it; every bite was a little golden brown flavour sponge. Vito, Harry, Ox, and Gorisuke had ordered their own greasy or sugary breakfast nightmare, so there wasn't any shame in his over-saturated pancakes.

Ox took a chug of his coffee, and said to the table, “So the _museum tour_ is tonight.”

Everybody silently nodded. Hamegg had the vaguest idea of Skunk's new heist, but he knew plenty about not fucking up public codewords.

“Everybody still interested?” chirped Harry. “I'm gonna be _second in line_.”

“I've got my eye on some _souvenirs_ ,” Vito added through a mouthful of egg.

Gorisuke only grunted in approval.

The group looked over to see Hamegg, still silent, gazing out the window with his chin in his hand. There wasn't much of anything to see out the window; the dusty outskirts of Metro City were mostly dotted with transport trucks and flatland, and maybe a deer if you were lucky. He had zoned out as he quietly took a forkful, put it to his mouth, chewed, swallowed, repeat. Ox couldn't help but sigh out of concern.

“Hey,” he started, albeit a little loudly. “You okay, Hamegg? You're lookin' a little morose.”

Hamegg finally turned to look around at the gang. Their expressions were soft; he relaxed when he realized he wasn't in trouble. He sat back, cleared his throat, and fidgeted with his tie as he tried to put a big grin on his face.

“Me? Aheh, well...” The grin melted away. “...Yeah, actually, I'm just barely working through this.”

“Anything we can do?”

Hamegg blinked. “H-Huh?”

“Anything we can do for you?” Ox repeated. “You might be staying temporarily, but you're still part a' the brotherhood.”

Hamegg rubbed his chin. He was admittedly a bit stunned. All the time he'd spent with Lamp living the high life made Skunk and his friends look like a bunch of hooligans, and he'd almost forgot how nice they could be, even if it was selective. Hamegg made a nervous laugh, trying to process how flattered he was.

“Uh, well, uh...” He looked around at all the other men. “...Can I come along on the tour?”

“Sure!” Ox said proudly. “More the merrier!”

Hamegg beamed with excitement. He looked over to Harry, who sat beside him, finding the young man shoving hash browns into his mouth. His eyes were wide and he was nodding in approval. Hamegg looked around the table, and sank back into his seat, relieved. He wasn't just some dead weight in the gang anymore; he'd have a function.

Vito grabbed one of the menus from the side of the table and thumbed through it. He declared, “Let's order one of the bigass deserts. Get our blood sugar up for the _tour_ , eh?”

“Oh! Uh...” Hamegg felt around for his wallet. “How much is my share of the bill at right now?”

“Share?” Vito froze, then snorted. “ _Amico_ , we've got money out the ass. Don't worry about it.”

Free food. Men after his own heart. A stunned Hamegg chortled, and asked, “You guys are _this_ loaded?”

“Sure are. The boss saves up almost as much as he spends.” Vito stared at something on the menu. “Shit, that one looks great.”

“God...” Hamegg stared up at the ceiling. “What was I doin' wasting all my time with Mister Caviar-and-Silk?”

“'Cause you like caviar an' silk?” Harry blurted out through a mouthful of food.

“...Heh, good point, kid.” But ouch, it was making him think.

Skunk's gang, so far, was feeling like a well-needed vacation from Lamp. Hamegg knew he'd come in at the right time, with an easy heist to keep his mind off his partner, _and_ to make him feel like less of a couch crasher. Hamegg's plan as always was to blend in, relax, and cleanse his palette, but to leave before the gang started to see him as a fixture. Hamegg loved keeping himself limited edition.

However, as always, he would go back to Lamp in the end. _Maybe_. He couldn't tell how long he'd be away this time. But Hamegg could tell he was having a damn good time with Skunk's guys, and he was never one to turn a good time down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, this got a huge surge in views! I wanted to make a quick footnote about how all of Skunk's henchmen are from the 1980 series, most of them with fanon names. From one of my other works: "Ox is the huge guy with the red blazer, Vito is the balding redhead with the beige pinstripe suit, and Harry is the little brunet guy who's seen as Skunk's right-hand man and driver most of the time." As well, Moguno's the guy with the janky teeth and the blue blazer, and Gorisuke's the bulky guy with a beard and apeish face. I really hope people are enjoying this! I've been writing chapters as a wind-down between end-of-term essays.

The Togawa Art Gallery was Metro City's leading establishment for contemporary art. It was a smaller, relatively newer museum compared to the others in the city. The building had closed at 9 o'clock in the evening, and two hours later, the facility was still on lockdown with its refined security system. However, it was refined only as long as it had a consistent power connection.

A stout green transformer box was planted by the street at the gallery's front, managing voltage for the gallery and the surrounding four city blocks. It was locked and encased in reenforced aluminium, which wasn't strong enough to withstand a bullet from a .357 Magnum. Vito aimed straight for the lock. With the heavy pop of a silencer, a bullet destroyed the lock on impact, and burst open the transformer's inner cabinet.

Ox ran from the car with a heavy duty stun gun and fired. The hideously loud, crunchy sound of electrical overload blasted out from the transformer, and all the street lights on the block flickered into darkness.

Ox hissed over his shoulder, “ _Now!_ ”

Six more men burst out of the car and towards the gallery front doors. Skunk swung open the handles with gloved fists, bringing them all inside. The security camera over their heads was no longer flashing its little red dot, and he smirked victoriously. The camera system was down.

“Ham. Gorisuke. You two get the side gallery,” he whispered. “We'll raid the main hall. Five minutes, boys!”

The eight men dispersed. Hamegg and Gorisuke, with a sack in one of his gloved hands, ran up the short hallway towards a small, square room. They entered and found several display cases housing sparkling metal and gem statuettes. Gorisuke looked like he was going to start drooling.

“What should we hit first...?” Hamegg whispered. Gorisuke pointed to the far right, and let his point sweep back to where they were standing; they'd raid the room and then go back the way they came. Hamegg nodded in agreement. Gorisuke rushed off to the furthest display case and knocked off the glass cover, grabbing the little statue within like he was picking fruit.

Hamegg could've sworn he heard a rustling to his left. He paused his breathing; the foreign noise was coming from a closed door a few metres ahead. He could practically feel his heart drop.

Panicking, Hamegg searched his immediate surroundings; he was relieved to see a fire extinguisher clipped to the wall behind him. He tore it from its stand and held it, bracing himself. Gorisuke didn't seem to notice Hamegg's flurry of movements from across the room. Hamegg didn't notice the big man either, hyper-focusing solely on the door ahead.

The doorknob turned. Hamegg gripped the fire extinguisher, begging his sweaty hands not to drop it.

A slim security guard slowly opened the door, half asleep, and sucking on a fast food drink. The guard just barely had time to fully open his eyes when the smaller, frizzy haired man leaped at him with a fire extinguisher aimed at his head.

The impact reminded Hamegg of a falling coconut. The guard fell back and collided with the door, soon slumping to the floor. Hamegg stared down at him, breathing hard and victorious, but took a quick moment to check the young man's pulse. Still good and alive, just knocked out.

Hamegg looked up to find Gorisuke staring in shock. Hamegg gawked back at him and only made a shooing hand motion, an urge for the big man to go back to looting, but quicker. Gorisuke nodded and finished off the last display cases. When Gorisuke turned and darted off to the main hall, Hamegg followed diligently, the extinguisher held to his chest. He didn't dare leave it behind with his fingerprints all over it. With hands as oily as his at that moment, his fingerprints would practically scream at the police.

The group met by the front doors. Skunk did an ultra fast headcount, and upon seeing all eight of them together, he waved them through the doors like an overexcited schoolteacher. The group bolted to the car and piled themselves in. Everybody tried to keep quiet as they squirmed around, trying to get the doors closed and their elbows out of personal space while Harry hurriedly started the engine. They cruised away; as soon as they were a block away, the men exploded with laughter.

“Hot damn,” Skunk called out, “Great work, boys! We bled that place dry in three minutes or less!”

“I counted two and a half!” Vito yelled, pointing proudly at his watch. Everybody broke out hooting and laughing again. Hamegg was the quietest in the car, and Skunk turned around to check on him.

“Hey, Ham--” he began, but froze in confusion. “That's all you got? What, you left a fire going at home?”

Hamegg looked at the fire extinguisher, then at Skunk, and then at the extinguisher again. “Uh...”

Gorisuke leaned forward to Skunk's seat, a hand beside his mouth, and whispered. Skunk leaned over and listened intently. His eyes went wide; his upper lip seemed to twitch as well.

“Really...” Skunk turned back to Hamegg. “You did that?”

 _The...the guard?_ Hamegg blinked, nervous. “I...yeah.”

Skunk's face lit up with a grin. He pointed at Hamegg, and declared, “Guys! You all owe Ham thanks, 'cause he knocked out a _security guard_ for us!”

The car filled with panicked and excited chatter. He could hear Harry sputter in the driver's seat, “What was a guard doing there so late?!”

“Probably overtime,” Vito added. “Or he was gonna steal something himself!”

Ox leaned over to Hamegg and beamed, “Geez, not even two days with us and you save our collective ass!”

Hamegg could feel his ego swell. He sat back with a wide grin returning to his face, letting himself soak up the praise. He hugged the fire extinguisher to his chest like a trophy. The car had filled with excited, positive chatter, and Hamegg swam in through the mood.

Deep down, he tried to ignore how disappointed he was in himself. He had forgotten to pick out some art for Lamp.

***

 

Skunk's hideouts always turned into a bit of a circus after a successful heist. It wasn't Hamegg's preferred kind of circus, but he lived for any kind of chaos. Especially when he was being buried in praise.

“So how'd you do it?” asked Vito, on his third beer. Some of the guys had pulled the couches and soft chairs together, with Hamegg seated proudly on an old recliner. The table was covered in booze they'd gone through, or planned to. Some of the gallery's metalwork statues and little sculptures were on the table, too, like little talismans. The fire extinguisher had been jokingly propped up on the couch, with Gorisuke's hat on it and a cigarette stuck into the locking pin.

“I just grabbed the thing...” Hamegg drunkenly mimed the motion of a battering ram. “...And whacked him when he stepped out! Didn't wanna get brains everywhere, though, so I held back. The _shlemiel_ should be grateful!”

“Did you say anything cool when you went at him?” Harry asked, leaning forward excitedly from where he sat on the ground. His tan hands fidgeted with one of the sculptures.

Hamegg dramatically put a hand to his chest. “Oh, no, no! I had to move quietly for the perfect sneak attack! That's my style! You should see me in Tokyo or Chicago!”

Skunk had stepped out of the building for a few minutes, and Hamegg was admittedly glad. If he could hear Ham at that moment, he'd laugh so hard he'd shatter a rib.

“You must've gotten a lot of experience working with Lamp,” Harry said, starry-eyed. “You and Skunk are the most accomplished guys here.”

Hamegg could feel himself glow as he triumphantly picked up a bottle of whiskey. He sighed, “Well, I might just stay around with Skunk...! I can actually feel myself bein' useful here!”

Noise echoed from across the room, and the men looked up, startled. A group of women were laughing somewhere. Hamegg searched the room for the source, annoyed that something was taking the attention off of him. Skunk re-entered through the far door, followed by Ox and a small cluster of escorts.

Skunk cupped a hand to his mouth and yelled out, “Hey, guys! Don fuckin' Juan over here brought friends!” He quickly turned back to the women and grunted, “Little guy with the bolo tie's accounted for. Otherwise, name your rates with 'em.”

Gorisuke grabbed his hat from the fire extinguisher and shoved it back on, using it to cover his blushing face. Hamegg got the impression that women weren't a regular occurrence in Skunk's hideouts; the consistent grodiness was probably a deterrent.

“Oh _ew_ ,” declared one of the women, a redhead in a striped bodycon dress, skeptically eyeing the other men in the room. “Ox, your friends get uglier every time I see 'em.”

“Aw Sumi, they're good guys! You see that one?” Ox pointed straight at Hamegg. “Go give that guy a visit. He just went through a fallin' out.”

“Yuck, no!” Sumi clung on tighter to Ox. “I'm gonna stay with you and your strong jawline...!”

The women hung around Ox like a pastel, giggling cloud. An envious Hamegg felt his hands screw tight into fists. He paused, and as teasingly as he could manage, he put his hands to his mouth and yelled out, “ _Boooo_! Show-off!”

“Yeah!” Moguno hooted through his toothy lisp. “Whaddya comin' out here for, Ox?!”

“We're here to inspire you!” Ox yelled back.

Skunk had wandered over to the couches, taking Hamegg's attention with him. He watched as Skunk grabbed Harry from where the younger man sat on the ground, intending to throw him over his shoulder. The younger man yelped and squirmed around, and on the verge of dropping him, Skunk hurriedly eased Harry onto the couch. The larger man was almost cackling the whole time.

“How ya doin', moptop?” Skunk asked Harry from behind the couch. “Just got off the phone. We can get a couple million for those house paintings. I guess the woman who made 'em is a big name in America.”

“R-Really?” Harry's eyes fluttered. “Geez, we really cleaned up in there!”

“We sure did,” Skunk smirked, leaning down. “C'mere.”

Hamegg couldn't start chugging whiskey soon enough. He just didn't want to think anymore. It had been a good evening, he felt fantastic being on top of the world, but watching everyone else get cozy was making him sick.

Perhaps literally. His stomach knotted and turned at the addition of more booze. This was far, far more alcohol than he would normally have, especially when he was around Lamp. Hamegg angrily swallowed one more mouthful and slammed the bottle on the table.

Ox and his girls heard and the slam and turned to him. The large man proudly called out, “So! How's the gang saviour doin' tonight?”

“I'm perfec'ly perfect.” Hamegg struggled to speak. “It's how it goes, y'know?”

“I guess I understood that,” Sumi whispered.

One of the women beside Ox started to head over to Hamegg's chair. She brushed a lock of her short black hair behind her ear, intrigued and smiling. Hamegg felt like a startled wild animal as the woman slid beside him in his seat.

She batted her eyes, asking, “So you had a falling out, huh?”

“M-Maybe...?” replied a thoroughly flustered Hamegg. The rush of adrenaline wasn't helping his poor churning stomach through all this.

“Aw, how awful...” The woman slunk a hand along his jawline, and his body surged for better and worse. “My name's Bijoux. Would you like some company for the evening?”

Hamegg's face lit up in pink as he relished in the girl's attention. He fondly patted his lap, cooing, “Well, s-sure, sure! Why doncha sit on my lap, an' we'll talk 'bout the first thing that _pops up._ ”

Hamegg's stomach suddenly hit full tilt. His eyes pulled open and he spasmed, trying to get away from Bijoux as soon as possible and out of that chair. He flung forth from the now horrified woman in a flurry of limbs, and bolted a good two metres from the chair before he vomited. He sunk to his knees as it happened, the force being too much for the drunken man to take standing. Hamegg's hands gripped the dusty concrete floor as another wave of harsh nausea hit him, surging again and again, until he was sick once again. He hacked air a few times; he seemed to be dry now, and grateful for it. It had hurt. He'd indulged far too much.

Hamegg dizzily got back on his feet. He took a breath, exhaled, and turned to the stunned group. He slowly grinned and said, “Wow, that pick-up line made even _me_ sick.”

The gang burst out into hearty laughter. Hamegg nodded, smiling wearily; it was the least he could do. Skunk was the only one not entertained, with his pale, odd face staring at Hamegg with deep concern.

Skunk put on his own visage, and gave Moguno a gentle shove. “Hey, go turn the cleanin' robot on. I'll help Ham get cleaned up.”

Skunk headed towards the kitchen, giving Hamegg an inviting wave. The drunker man followed along with the most steady shamble he could manage. He was almost shocked by how serious Skunk became in there; Skunk had dutifully seated Hamegg at the worn-out kitchen table, with a glass of water, some Gravol tablets, and a mild cigarette.

“There's a couch 'round that corner,” Skunk said, giving a point down a hallway in the kitchen. “In something that used to be a break room. You can crash there if you can't make it to Harry's room.”

“Wow, Skunk...” Hamegg blearily took the tablets with a gulp of water. “I'd no idea you could be so genteel.”

“I can have your stuff brought d-- aw, God, Hamegg!” Skunk suddenly looked insulted. “You're a guest _and_ one of my best friends. Whaddya _think_ I'd do if you were sick?!”

Hamegg shrugged. “I...I don't know, you've always been the wilder one with us!”

“Ham, I might've trained for years to become mob boss material, but I'm still human.”

The two were quiet for a moment. Hamegg carefully nursed the water, its coolness giving him some semblance of sobriety. Skunk watched this approvingly from the counter. The larger man looked to the floor, then to the ceiling, and then loudly cleared his throat.

“Should I call Lamp?”

 _That_ almost made Hamegg nauseous again. He spluttered through a mouthful of water, “N-No! How could you even _dare_?!”

“A man doesn't drink half a bottle of whiskey when he's in a good place,” Skunk said.

Hamegg looked back down at the table. He idly tapped his fingers on the table, his olive skin a warm contrast against the pale beige wood. He watched this quietly, and after a moment, he sighed in defeat. He turned back to face the concerned Skunk, who was now leaning against the fridge.

“...Not _yet_ , okay?” Hamegg begged. “If I'm _this_ obviously a mess, then I...I don't want him to see me like this.”

Skunk cocked an eyebrow. “How come?”

“I've got a massive ego, you know...I don't want Lamp to think I'm a shambling mess without him.”

“Well, if it helps some, _I_ don't think you are.”

It was Hamegg's turn to stare back in surprise. Skunk immediately felt awkward, and at a loss for options, shrugged his shoulders in frustration.

“Like...you don't give yourself enough credit, Ham. You ran a fuckin' circus for a few years. You're one half of one of the country's best criminal operations...like, think of that! _Two_ guys! Sure I can do that, but I've got _thirty_ guys in all!” Skunk stopped for a breath. Calmer, he added, “Don't think that means I don't love my gang, though.”

“Yeah, I gotcha...” Hamegg looked at the ground. “I had no idea you thought so highly of me, Skunk.”

“I wouldn't be your friend after all this time if I didn't think you were worth your salt,” Skunk said, with an approving smirk.

Hamegg shrugged. His head was feeling heavier; the alcohol was definitely setting in now. He picked up the last item on the table, the cigarette, and lit it with sloppy, impaired hands. After a few breaths, he turned to Skunk and said, “Yeah, I'm gonna take the couch.”

“You need anything from upstairs?”

“Nah, not until morning...” Hamegg suddenly was hit with a wave of embarrassment. “What...what do we tell Bijoux?”

“Hmm...should I say you already had a date, or that your sheer prowess in the sack would kill her?”

Hamegg thought on it. “I'm highly tempted, but, nah. I'll take the first one.”

Skunk gave him an exaggerated salute as he headed back into the main room. Hamegg carefully stood up, cigarette held to his lips, and eased himself down the little hallway. It didn't take him long to find the room with the couch, and he collapsed onto it, not bothering to turn on the lights. He felt so heavy lying down.

The only light in the room was the faint red flame at the end of his cigarette. After a tired, hard drag, he let his arm hang off the couch, the little dot sinking to the ground like a landing firefly. Hamegg looked down at it fondly, and then turned back to gazing at the ceiling. He'd be asleep in no time.

He hoped Lamp was all right, wherever he was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great googly moogly, it's been ages! To keep a long story short, I had my senior year of university, my art projects, and work German Suplex me into the ground. I'm glad to finally have time to update this! I haven't written about Lamp in a while...

It had been three entire days since Hamegg had taken his departure. Lamp was well aware that Ham was a grown man and could take care of himself – for the most part – but he couldn't shake the heavy feeling at the pit of his stomach.

Lamp had gotten through a day of work seamlessly; he appreciated that most of his interactions were over the phone that day. Five o'clock was slowly approaching, and Lamp had to bite his lip to keep from going for the flask in his desk drawer. The stock market was enough of a headache without his lover going missing.

The office door opened, and Lamp's head snapped up to attention. Much to his relief, Marukabi Boon stood in the doorway, his face worn but concerned; Lamp had gotten him into the firm's mail room with a fake name.

“Hey, Acetylene...” Boon began apprehensively. “I'm heading out for takeout with Ben later. Are you interested?”

“Maybe. I may have to make some calls...” Lamp eyed the digital wall clock. 4:59 PM, bloody hell.

“Any connections you need?”

Lamp thought about it for a moment, and then sighed. He asked tensely, “Have you seen Ham anywhere lately?”

“No...” Boon stepped further into the office, sliding the door closed behind him. “Anything I should know about?”

“Just that I'm at my wit's end,” Lamp groaned. “He and I...argued, and I haven't seen him in three days.”

Boon shrugged. “Well, I haven't heard from him. Have you asked any of the guys?”

The wall clock clicked once, signalling 5:00 PM. Lamp immediately whipped open his desk drawer, retrieved his flask, and threw back a strong swig. He shook off the shudder before answering, “No, but I ought to check with...”

_Skunk._

Lamp's eyes slowly widened with the realization. He slammed the flask closed with the palm of his hand, and exclaimed, “Boon! Where's Skunk right now?!”

A startled Boon gripped the doorway to keep himself from falling over. Stunned, he began to say, “I-I know he's in town, just not where...?”

“Is there anybody we know who would know?!” Lamp stood up and began shoving himself into his coat. “God, I _knew_ Ham would wind up around someone familiar!”

Boon cleared his throat, finally regaining his cool. “Try the Dusty Rose Pub...I know his guys like hanging out there.”

“That's the one on the outskirts of town that's crawling with bikers and prostitutes, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Of _course_ Skunk's men would hang out there.” Lamp grabbed his hat off the wall hook, and turned to the office door. “I'll be off. Tell Ben I said hello.”

 

***

The Dusty Rose Pub hadn't changed at all since the last time Lamp had been there. The little bar sat on the edge of the highway like a brick and neon box, its fading and chipped outer paint blending in with the patchy grassland around it. Lamp pulled into the parking lot, parking his sleek black Audi A4 beside a dirt-speckled red Toyota Tercel. Lamp could not have felt more out of place as he walked into the bar.

He entered, taking a seat at the bar counter. He looked around the room apprehensively, but remaining stonefaced; everybody in the bar was fixated solely on him. Lamp was beginning to regret how quickly he'd jumped into this, being the only one wearing an Italian tailored suit in a sea of flannel and polyester. Lamp hissed under his breath and turned to glance at the bartender, who only looked from Lamp to large-haired woman sitting at the counter; he gave the woman a repulsed look that seemed to say, _Can you believe this guy?_

Lamp cleared his throat. “I, uh...” He bit his lip, trying to maintain looking stoic. “...I'm looking for a friend.”

“Well, you ain't gonna find one here,” growled the bartender, tucking his hands into his jean pockets. “Let me guess, you've got a wire on?”

“Hey, search me if you want,” Lamp drawled as he held up his hands. “But I'm telling the truth.”

“Sure.” The bartender snapped his fingers. “Ludo, _serve_ the guy.”

A bulky, tanned man in an eye patch stood up from a nearby table, smirking as he drew closer to Lamp. Lamp kept his hands up as the thick hands – ones uncomfortably bigger than his own – felt up and down his sides. That was when one hand decided to slip into his blazer pocket.

Lamp acted on reflex, grabbing both of Ludo's wrists, flinging the bigger man open like a human starfish. Lamp flung himself backwards and slammed the two of them into the bar doorway, with Ludo taking all of the impact. The large man wheezed in pain as they fell to the ground, and the next thing Lamp knew, he was hearing the cocking of guns from all angles of the bar.

“I asked for a frisking _only_ ,” Lamp complained. The bartender moved out from behind the counter, making a hurried hand gesture for Lamp to stand up, gripping a pistol in his other hand. Lamp wore a dissatisfied glare as he got up, all while holding his hands in the air.

“You don't pull that kinda crap in here, buddy!” The bartender yelled. “What the in the fresh goddamn do you think you are?!”

Lamp paused, and then declared, “Acetylene Lamp.”

The bar went quiet. The bartender stood there, mouth limply hanging open, and he lowered his gun; Lamp could see guns all over the bar being put down, too. The bartender sputtered, “W-Why didn't you just say so in the first place?!”

“I thought you might take kinder to a stranger, _buddy_ ,” Lamp spat back. “And what kind of man would I be if I threw my name around all the time?”

“Look, look, I...” The bartender hurried back behind the counter. “I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want. I-I've only got four hundred in the register right n--”

“Where's Skunk?” Lamp put his arms back to his sides. He was almost beginning to pity the bartender. “I was hoping to catch up with him.”

“Y-Yeah, he's a _slippery_ guy...” The bartender turned to the bar crowd, stuttering, “Anybody h-have an idea for Mr. Lamp here?!”

“I saw 'im out by the metropolitan area last week,” someone called out.

“Yeah, _last_ week!” Someone yelled back. “I suppose you're gonna give him the weather from three weeks ago!”

“Aw, fuck you, man!”

“Keep it down,” A third person yelled out. “Skunk's out in the industrial park!”

Lamp turned to see a tall, svelte woman in a red bodycon dress standing by one of the booths. She stood up straight, crossing her arms and hissing, “Eyes up here, sir.”

“So...” Lamp averted his eyes. “Where exactly _is_ Skunk out there?”

“Not sure. It all looks the same out there.” The woman looked up, trying to remember anything. “One of his guys brought my friends and I out there yesterday...it was one of those beat-up old storage facilities.”

Lamp's eyes widened. _Yesterday!_ He sputtered, “Did you see a certain man out there, about five-foot-three, curly hair, mustache?”

The woman spat, “Ugh, _him_? Definitely. He was super awkward, let me tell you...”

Hamegg was out there, all right. Lamp reached into his jacket pocket, grabbed $200 in bills, and quickly handed it to the woman. Grateful, he exclaimed, “Perfect! Here, get yourself some dinner. And bartender!”

“Y-Yes?!” The eye patch-clad man yelped across the room.

“Give me a bottle of rosé,” Lamp called out. “And I'll let what happened in here tonight go.”

 

***

Not long after, Lamp drove through Metro City's old industrial park, a wide stretch of blocks with abandoned or closing down warehouses and factories. Lamp was disgusted with his surroundings the further he drove on; the escort woman wasn't kidding when she said the buildings all looked the same. He glanced over to see the bottle of rosy pink wine on its side in the passenger's seat, reminding himself why he was out there.

With one hand, he pulled a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and ignited it with the car's cigarette lighter. Lamp took a left turn into a new maze of derelict buildings, taking a hard first drag. He rolled down his window to make the air in the car less stifling. He didn't want to think too hard. All Lamp wanted to do was comb the park for any sign of Hamegg, Skunk, or any of the latter's men.

_What would they be up to around..._ Lamp quickly looked at the LED readout on his car's radio. _Around 9 at night? It's getting dark, so they might be ou--_

In the dark of the night, two voices sang out, “ _Glory glory, hallelujah..._ ”

Lamp stomped on the brake, bringing the car to a jerky halt. The voices were drunk and directionless, bored even. But just a tinge in those words sounded familiar.

They continued. “ _I'd love to write,_ _but I_ _wish I blew ya..._ ”

Lamp rolled his window all the way down, listening carefully for a direction. He knew that song. Crass as it was, it was burned into the furthest part of his memory from the last time he'd visited Skunk; at least four of Skunk's men knew it as part of a long, winding drinking song. Lamp followed the sound of their voices, cruising as slowly as possible, one ear to the wind. The men's lyrics didn't matter so long as he could still hear their drunken warbling, a beacon in the night and his last possible clue. The voices were getting louder as Lamp drew closer to yet another old, abandoned storage building. But Lamp could tell he'd found the right place.

Two men were hunched over by the back door, blearily crooning, “ _Walkin' like you broke your back..._ ”

Lamp rolled up his window, shut the car off, grabbed the wine, and hurriedly climbed out. He gave the doors a quick lock with the key fob before turning to face the two men. They had stopped singing, now staring at Lamp in a drunken, confused haze.

“Evening,” Lamp called out, cordial. He took the cigarette out of his mouth as he continued, “Tell your boss that _Lamp_ is here.”

One of the men registered what Lamp meant, and he nodded shakily, running into the building. The other man remained outside, uncomfortable with the silence. Lamp returned the cigarette to his mouth for an especially hard drag, all while eyeing the ugly burnt-out streetlight above him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the building's door opening, a larger man now at the knob. He made a quick gesture for Lamp to walk inside, and he did so briskly.

In the hall, Lamp now identified the large man as Ox Yanagata, Skunk's right-hand man. He and Lamp made brief eye contact, but neither wanted to speak. Ox led Lamp out to the main hall, where he found rest of the gang staring right back at him. A cluster of guys were eating Chinese food out of clamshell takeout containers, frozen, eyes agape. Skunk stood beside them with his arms crossed. Lamp, uncomfortable, cleared his throat.

“Evening, Skunk...” Lamp began. “Would Hamegg happen to be here?”

Skunk shook his head sternly. “Nah. Sorry. He's gone somewhere else to hide out.”

“...Really. I was told that he was seen here yesterday.”

“Well, he was here yesterday, but he's gone out now.” Skunk shrugged. “Said he was gonna stay with family."

Lamp sternly narrowed his eyes. He stepped closer to Skunk, declaring, “You and I both know his family doesn't even live in this country, Skunk.”

Skunk looked disgusted. “It's what _he_ told me, Lamp!”

“Where is my partner, Skunk?”

“I don't know! Hamegg isn't here!”

“Yes I am, Skunk! Jesus!” Shrieked a familiar voice. “What do you want?!”

Hamegg was in the middle of angrily strolling into the main hall. He was frustratedly rolling up his sleeves, mumbling curses under his breath. Hamegg looked up in search of Skunk, but instead locked eyes with Lamp. A cold moment passed between them before Hamegg turned on his heel and ran.

“H-Hey!” Lamp started to chase after him but was forced back by Skunk. “Get back here, Ham!”

“Whoa there--!” Skunk hissed, pushing Lamp's limbs back. “He's my guest, he's under _my_ protection!”

“And he's _my_ lover!” Lamp yelled back. “I have a right to check on him!”

“He doesn't want to _be_ checked on, genius!”

“Well, I'd like to talk to him, not you!”

“You saw him, he's perfectly fine!” Skunk shoved Lamp back, hard. “So _piss off_ , Ace!”

Lamp scrambled to stay on his feet. When he found his footing, he froze, staring intently into Skunk's face. Lamp carefully put the bottle of wine on the floor beside him, cleared his throat, and adjusted his tie.

“So...” Lamp purred. “I guess you're in the mood to debate this like boys, not men?”

Skunk stared back. Before he could make a proper response, Lamp charged forward and threw Skunk into a headlock.

The main hall erupted into hoots and screams as the two men begun sinking punches into each other in the centre of the room. Harry Pilat bolted through the kitchen doorway, wailing, running in panicky circles as he tried to figure out what to do. The cacophony roused Hamegg from his hiding place, and stared into the room as if it was the raunchiest, most messy absurdist painting he'd ever seen.

“ _Stop it!_ ” Hamegg screamed at the top of his lungs. “ _Both of you!_ ”

The fight ground to a halt, both men staring in bewilderment at Hamegg. The shorter man, fists clenched, strolled towards where the two lay on the floor. Almost shaking with anger, Hamegg yelled out, “Skunk, get _off_ him!”

Skunk shot to his feet and stepped back to the wall. As he put his hair back into place, Lamp began to sit up, prompting Hamegg to yell, “And _you!_ ”

Lamp stood up, reaching out for Hamegg apprehensively. “H-Ham, honey, baby...”

Hamegg glared back. His dark brown eyes stared fiercely up into Lamp's, and the smaller man spat, “Go home, Ace.”

“That's what I'm trying to do,” Lamp sighed. He turned around, grabbed the bottle of rosé wine, and held it out as an offering to Hamegg. His voice soft, Lamp asked, “Hamegg, let's go home.”


End file.
